


White Christmas

by Miss_Vile



Series: Nygmobblepot One Shots [27]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:54:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28065051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Vile/pseuds/Miss_Vile
Summary: “I never had it growing up,” Edward confessed, looking down at the floor in that bashful way that always filled Oswald’s cheeks with warmth, “I thought it would be nice to share it with you.”
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Series: Nygmobblepot One Shots [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1396144
Comments: 8
Kudos: 67





	White Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> It's that time of year again where I can't help but write sappy, Christmas fluff. Enjoy!

Oswald used to love Christmas. It was always his favorite holiday growing up. He and his mother would curl up under fleece blankets beside the single, tiny radiator in their apartment and watch all of their favorite movies. Later in the night, they would bake honey cookies using a recipe she brought from her childhood home in Budapest. They would spend hours decorating them with whimsical patterns of florals and lace. Oswald’s always turned out sloppy and lacking much skill whereas his mother’s would spiral out into these intricate patterns. They were always too beautiful to eat.

The memories made his heart ache, but he was able to keep the sadness at bay by resuming with the day-to-day duties as Mayor. Even during the holidays, he had mountains of paperwork, meetings, and events to host. However, Edward was determined to bring up those lost traditions whenever he found an opportunity. He would practically quiz Oswald over what sorts of foods he ate during the holidays, what kinds of games he played, music he listened to, presents he received or didn’t receive…

His inquiries didn’t matter much until the following week. Edward had requested to leave City Hall early to work on some sort of secret project at the mansion. Oswald, who was used to his friend’s antics, just waved him off and let him be on his way. However, when he returned later that night, he was surprised to find the entire facade of his home lit up in brightly colored lights.

“Looks like your boyfriend’s been busy,” Gabe chuckled as he opened the door to the limo for the Penguin.

“Ed is _not_ my boyfriend,” Oswald scowled, “Don’t let anyone overhear you say such a ridiculous thing.”

“My lips are sealed, Boss,” Gabe smiled. Oswald wanted to punch him but thought better of it. Instead, he just huffed and made his way up the steps.

Immediately, he was hit in the face with the smell of honey, ginger, and peppermint. Wreaths and holly decorated the banisters and walls. Candles and the light from the fireplace filled the old mansion with a life he never knew it had. Bing Crosby’s crooning voice could be heard from the record player down the hall and the sight of it all filled him with nostalgia that tugged at his heartstrings.

“Ed?” he called out, shaking slush away from his shoes.

“Hi,” Ed poked his head around the corner. He was wearing a ridiculous santa hat and Oswald nearly burst out laughing at the sight. Ed rushed towards him and took Oswald’s coat, making sure to shake away the snow. 

Once Oswald had fully taken in the sight of him and the festive decorations, he turned. “You’ve been busy.”

“I have,” he smiled. He was practically vibrating, “I’ve mostly cleared your schedule for the week. At most, you’ll just have to sign a few papers and I’ll send someone to take it to the appropriate recipients. Provided the Underworld behaves, you won’t even have to leave the house.”

“Uh-huh…” Oswald slowly nodded, his brow furrowed slightly.

“I thought we could stay in tonight and watch some movies,” he explained, “I know that’s not normally something you and I do, but it was something you said you enjoyed doing with your mother, so I made sure to pick up a few that we could watch tonight.”

“Alright.”

Edward stopped for a moment, realizing that all of Oswald’s responses had been unbearably short. He frowned, “You don’t like it?”

“I never said that,” he frowned back, “I just… why did you do all of this?”

“I never had it growing up,” Edward confessed, looking down at the floor in that bashful way that always filled Oswald’s cheeks with warmth, “I thought it would be nice to share it with you.”

“Oh,” Oswald flushed, “Well… then, in that case… What movie would you like to start with?”

They continued on like that through the rest of the week. They watched movies, listened to music, and baked cookies. The recipe wasn’t exactly like the one his mother used, but it was close. Edward had scoured through all of Gotham’s libraries in search of an authentic Hungarian cookbook. In the end, he found an old cook at a local restaurant who gave him a recipe for traditional Mézeskalács.

As expected, Oswald still hadn’t quite gotten the hang of piping out the patterns of frosting and Edward’s were intricate and beautiful— penguins and snowflakes that were far too exceptional and artful to eat.

Day by bitter day, Oswald could feel his heart grow numb. He wanted to enjoy their time together, but opening up and confessing how he felt would only lead to heartbreak. Or it would just confuse his friend and push him away.

“Oswald?” Edward peeked out from around the corner. Oswald was seated in his usual chair by the fire with a glass of red in his off-hand. A plate full of cookies and peppermint bark was on a table in front of him that he was resisting the urge to devour. “I have something for you.”

“What is it?” Oswald asked, staring at his friend who was still partially obscured by the doorway.

“I was going to give it to you on Christmas morning but it arrived early. And it’s not exactly a gift that can be wrapped.”

"Well, I don’t mind getting a gift a little early,” he wriggled in his seat.

“Good,” Edward smiled, “Close your eyes then.”

“Oh… okay…” he did so, his hand curling slightly out of nervous habit. Edward was lucky Oswald trusted him so thoroughly.

“Hold out your hand,” Edward’s voice told him.

Tentatively, Oswald held out his hand. His eyes shot open the moment he felt a sharp prick on one of his fingers and nearly dropped whatever Edward was handing him onto the ground. Edward, ever clever, had already anticipated that and held his hand firmly by the wrist. When Oswald finally looked at what Edward had given him, his heart nearly burst. There, in his palm, was a bird.

“Eddie, she’s beautiful.”

“I saw her in the window and knew I had to get her,” he scratched the top of her head with the tip of his index finger, “Her coloration made me think of you.”

She was small. Round with a broad head and chubby cheeks. Her face was pale with a hint of peach to them while the rest of her feathers were a lovely lavender-grey. She hopped in his palm, her claws digging into his skin slightly but not too terribly, and nuzzled against his thumb as Edward continued to pet her.

“What do you want to name her?” Ed asked.

“I get to name her?”

“Of course, she’s yours,” he chuckled.

Oswald mulled over a few options that came to mind. But, in the end, there was only one name that seemed fitting, “Edie.”

“Edie?” Edward’s hand stilled. His cheeks slowly turned pink, “Lovely.”

“I’m sorry, Edward. I didn’t get you anything nearly as extravagant,” he frowned. He’d only gotten Edward a new suit and a few books he thought his friend would appreciate. Well, those and a new set of surgical tools he could use when they were _working._

“You have already gone above and beyond for me this year,” Edward told him, “You gave me my freedom. A home. A job. Your friendship. I can’t ask for more than that.”

Oswald turned to him and couldn’t help staring at his lips. They looked so soft and perfect. He wondered if they would taste like honey and ginger.

Much like Christmas when he was a child, Oswald couldn’t sleep. He sat beside the fire long into the night and watched the snow continue to fall, blanketing the estate grounds. This was the most snow he’d seen in years. It was probably due to the more secluded location of the mansion and the lack of tall buildings and foot traffic. Edward was probably wise to have cleared their schedules because they would have likely been snowed in regardless.

He looked over at their tree and the presents wrapped beneath. In the morning, Edward had planned on cooking them breakfast and exchanging holiday pleasantries. And then the next day, it would all be over. Their lives would resume as normal. The decorations would be put away for another year. If there would even _be_ another year worth taking them out and celebrating.

“Oswald?” Edward’s voice called to him from the entryway. Oswald looked up at him, trying to hold himself together. But, as usual, Edward saw right through him, “You’re crying.”

“I am,” he chuckled at his misery, “Don’t worry about me. It will pass.”

“May I join you?” Edward asked, gesturing to the empty spot on the sofa, “Or would you prefer I left you alone?”

Oswald flinched at the way Edward’s words sounded and shook his head, “I am always happy to spend my time with you.”

Edward took his place beside him and looked around the room. The air was cozy but the atmosphere was melancholic. Even Edward could tell, “You miss her.”

It’s not a question. Edward had been attempting to recreate all of the things he’d heard Oswald say he and his mother did. He wanted to make their first Christmas together special and Oswald knew he only wanted to be included in those memories. He craved that inclusion. That closeness. He and Oswald were very much alike in that regard.

“I do,” he sniffled, “But that’s not why I’m crying.”

“What’s wrong?” Edward shifted in his seat.

Oswald chuckled at that. He was woefully unprepared for that conversation, but he was just exhausted enough that he couldn’t help himself. He’d already chickened out so many times before and, if he held back now, Edward was just going to assume that his kindness had been unwanted. He deserved to know. So...

“We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Yes,” Edward replied automatically.

“And you said you would do anything for me.”

“Yes, Oswald. Anything at all,” he shifted so that he was facing his friend more directly. His eyes kept flickering behind his glasses and Oswald could tell that his anxiety was slowly getting the better of him.

“Edward, you have to promise me that what I am going to confess to you will not _ruin_ what we have.”

“Why would it?” his voice cracked.

“Just promise me.”

His eyes flickered again as Oswald awaited his response. He swallowed, “I promise.”

Oswald continued, “The first Christmas without my mother I was in Arkham. I barely remember it, really. I get nauseous every time I—” he gagged, “—try and remember that time.”

“Don’t force it,” Ed’s brow pinched in concern. He draped his hand across Oswald’s knee and squeezed, grounding him.

“You know, I was sane before I went there,” he scoffed, bitterly, “But now I’m not so sure.”

“You are,” Ed reassured him, “You’re sane. Especially compared to me.”

“Yes, well… you wear your crazy well.”

“I do?” Ed chuckled.

“It’s admirable. Brave. Very _you”_

“I appreciate that,” he smiled, “You’re the only one who has ever accepted me in spite of it.”

Oswald could feel himself crying again— his face hot and eyes stinging. He contemplated calling the whole thing off but that would only serve to confuse Edward more.

“Oswald?” Edward leaned in with concern.

No longer able to hide his emotions, he inhaled a shaky breath, “Let me continue.”

“Of course.”

“I was so happy to have been reunited with my father. I wasn’t going to be alone for Christmas anymore. And I didn’t just have him! I had a fam—” he paused. The word made him sick, _“Family._ I never had siblings before. That was new. Though, they probably would have sooner had me polish the floors than ever give me a present.”

“Good riddance,” Edward growled.

“Yes. Good riddance to them,” he nodded in mutual displeasure at their mention, “When my father passed, I tucked all of those feelings away and just accepted that I would always be alone.”

“But you’re not alone now. You have me.”

“I do,” tears rolled freely down his cheeks.

“I’m still lost…” Ed frowned, his hand still firmly on Oswald’s knee.

“Sorry,” he hastily wiped his tears away, “I promise I have a point.”

“Alright,” Ed swallowed. He was starting to squirm in his seat but Oswald could tell his anxiety was looming like a mean cloud.

Oswald steaded himself, “I have appreciated everything you have done. The warmth you’ve brought into my home. But…”

“But?” Ed’s voice was tight.

Ed looked like his heart was breaking. The words were on the tip of Oswald’s tongue (as they often were) but he couldn’t quite strangle them out. So, he continued to dance around the topic. “I’m no coward.”

“I know you’re not,” Ed tilted his head, surprised and still confused.

“And yet… I’m terrified. I’m afraid of the day I will no longer have it.”

“But we’ll always be friends,” he said. But Oswald didn’t respond. He swallowed, “Right, Oswald?”

There was still only silence.

“Oswald?” he shifted on the couch, inching himself closer, “Oswald… _please_ say something.”

“Edward, I love you.”

Edward blinked. His eyes danced around Oswald face for a moment before he smiled, “I love you too, Oswald. You’re my best friend. And we’ll always—”

“No, Ed,” he chuckled like his heart wasn’t breaking, “I _love_ you.”

Oswald searched his friend’s face and waited for the inevitable rejection. He saw the moment Edward processed his words, his eyes widening like saucers, “You mean… romantically?”

Oswald only looked at him in response.

“Oh,” Edward sulked away and started chewing at his nails.

“You’ll leave eventually,” Oswald frowned, “You’re attractive. Intelligent. You’re powerful now. So, of course, you’ll meet someone…. You’ll meet some beautiful, tall, I don’t know _blonde_ woman. Maybe she’ll fancy your riddles and make you laugh and give you the family I know you’ve always wanted. She’ll be everything that I am not. She will provide what I cannot.”

It was Edward’s turn to stare and say nothing.

Oswald continued, “And when that day comes, I will be alone again.”

“That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it though?” Oswald held back his tears, his face contorted in his sorrow, “All of this…” he gestured all around, “It all just reminds me of what I know I cannot have.”

Ed sat there in the stillness for a long while, listening to Oswald sniffle beside him. “How long have you known? That you loved me?”

“Since the Siren’s. Possibly before, but certainly then.”

“Oswald, that was _months_ ago.”

“I know,” he couldn't help but feel embarrassed. Oswald ‘The Penguin’ Cobblepot, Mayor and King of Gotham had been too afraid to confess his feelings and had instead been waddling around in self-pity.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I wanted to respect the advice you gave,” he told him, “Because you’re right. We are better off unencumbered. Being one another’s weakness is too dangerous for people like us.”

“I would argue we are already to that point,” Ed admitted.

“Yes… I suppose that is true,” he chuckled, “If anything happened to you, Edward, I would go insane. I would burn all of Gotham down as a result.”

“I’d probably do the same,” Ed said. He shifted again, broadening his shoulders and turning himself towards his friend once more, “Oswald… look at me.”

When he did, Edward took it as incentive to scoot closer. At this point, Oswald wasn’t certain whether to brace himself for a slap to his face or a joke at his expense.

“May I kiss you?” he asked.

“I’m sorry?” Oswald nearly fell out of his seat.

“I’m… confused,” Ed said, “And I need to find out for myself if I really want this.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying… I want to try this. See how things go.”

Oswald scoffed, “This isn’t an opportunity for you to play games with me, Ed. And I don’t want to be something that you just… _try on.”_

“I know that, I just…” he sighed and took another deep breath before continuing, “I’ve never thought about it before. With you. But…”

“But?”

“But the more I think about it and look at you now…” he cupped Oswald’s face in his hands, relishing the weight and warmth, “I want to. I think deep down I’ve always wanted to.”

The lovebird chirped from her cage. She flapped her wings and nuzzled against the far side where Oswald was closest.

“See, even Edie agrees,” Ed chuckled.

“You really want to try this?” Oswald shifted closer, daring to touch Ed’s cheek with a light brush of his knuckles. To his surprise, Edward took his hand and kissed his wrist.

“Yes,” he held Oswald's hand more firmly, lacing their fingers together, “So… about that kiss?”

“Oh!” he gasped, “Y-Yes? Yes. You may kiss me. If you really want to.”

Edward smiled, lifting Oswald’s chin to meet him. The room suddenly felt warm and lively again. They both closed their eyes as their lips softly pressed together, like the delicate brush of frost on their windows or the fluffy blanket of white outside.

They parted and Oswald dared to open his eyes. Edward no longer looked confused, but he didn’t look nearly as awe-struck as Oswald felt. He swallowed, worried that perhaps Edward had changed his mind, “Well?”

“Well,” Edward pulled away and adjusted his classes, “You were already going to have a hard time getting rid of me before. But now I think you’re stuck with me.”

“Really?” Oswald’s eyes sparkled.

“Really,” he nudged him with his elbow, “And I will be more than happy to share Christmas with you every year from now on.”

“I’d like that,” Oswald rested his head on Ed’s shoulder and intertwined their fingers yet again.

The two of them sat there for the remainder of their evening watching the snow fall outside their window, a lovebird singing cheerfully beside them, and many years of festive holidays ahead of them.


End file.
